Angry since the day I said goodbye to Grandma.
Angry since I hurried down the busy hallway to room number 3905 of the ICU, knowing that this would be the last time that I would see her and talk to her.
Angry since the last time that I squeezed her hand and cried.
Angry since I said goodbye, told her that I loved her, let her know that she had made such a difference in my life.
Angry when I told her that I was sorry for not visiting her more, calling her more.
Angry when I doubted that she even heard or grasped any of what I had just told her.
Angry when I was hit with the reality that this was really it, that she was really leaving and there wasn’t a thing that I could do about it.
Angry that it had to end like this. That it had to end…period. And that she couldn’t squeeze my hand, tell me that she loved me or say goodbye back to me.
Maybe anger is a part of the process.
But will there be an end? It’s hard to say.
I’ve been told that life goes on. That eventually I will be able to talk about her, write about her, think about her, see her picture, all without bursting into tears. And I do know that. But for right now, it is so difficult – and I’m a mess.
I called my Grandpa today, to check on him, to ask those stupid questions like “How are you doing?” and “Are you alright?” He answered obviously and talking to him made my heart sink. Clearly he misses her more than I could ever even imagine missing her and you can hear it in his voice. But it was great to talk with him. It was great despite the fact that I was a mess on the phone with him and that I was a mess for a good hour after hanging up with him.
Because as odd as it seems, it feels good to cry over her.
But I also know that Grandma would not allow me (or anyone else) to be a mess over her. I know that she would tell me that everything was ok and to
“Go and take care of those babies!”
Just as she told me at the end of every phone call.
So, as difficult as it all seems right now…
You got it, Grandma.